Chapter Summary: Harry struggles a bit with his worsening condition and Draco finds help in unexpected places.
AN: Hello again! So sorry for the long wait between these last two chapters. I've been sick, am still sick to be honest, and I've had some difficulty focusing on my writing. I hope you enjoy this update and are having a good October so far.
After the Rain Falls
Chapter 8: Can't See Wood for the Trees
"I can't believe you played this with Malfoy of all people before me," Ron complained, as he moved a tile decisively on the board between them. Harry stared down at it and frowned, biting his thumbnail as he struggled to decide on his next play. Clash of the Cockatrice, like all of Ron's favourite games, was tactically based, and required an elevated level of strategy that Harry simply did not excel at. He was happy to play, but knew he was ultimately destined for defeat.
Harry reached down, sliding one of his pieces to avoid its demise at the hands of the Cockatrice's deadly stare. "Well how else did you expect me to learn?" he muttered, and he groaned, realizing he'd basically handed Ron the win already.
"Oh I don't know, by reading the manual maybe," Ron said, and then he slid another piece to the right while watching Harry carefully.
"You know I'm more of an active learner," Harry commented. He sat up, crossed his arms and grimaced. "I fold." Ron grinned at him, and then the two of them reset the board.
After a few moves into their next match, Ron glanced at Harry then asked, "Well, how was he then?"
"Beat me 3-0," Harry admitted. Ron paused, fingers held out over the board, and he gaped at Harry in disappointment. "What? Draco's good at this sort of thing, you should know, what with chess club and all."
Ron's brow furrowed and he glanced off to the side moodily. "We've never actually had a match."
"Why not? Afraid you might lose?" Harry taunted, and Hermione snickered from her seat, covering it up with a quick cough as she hastily turned a page in her book.
Ron glared at both of them and then muttered, "As if."
"He might surprise you," Harry commented, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of Draco holding his own in a game of wizard's chess against Ron. Now that would be a match to see. Draco was smart. In ways that Harry had never given him credit for. And though he'd had access to more resources than most wizarding children did at a young age, his skills had still been learned through great effort. Harry didn't realize he was daydreaming until Ron tapped at the board loudly in front of him, startling Harry from his inner thoughts. He ducked his head and peered down before tentatively placing a piece, only to be immediately countered.
He could feel Hermione's gaze, and he glanced to the side, catching sight of a familiar expression upon her face. She was thinking. Dangerous. Before he could dwell on it for too long Hermione asked, "Something happened, didn't it? Between you and Malfoy."
His fingers paused in mid-air, game piece held tightly between them. He cleared his throat before asking, "What do you mean?"
Both Ron and Hermione were watching him now, with narrowed eyes as they shared suspicious glances, and he couldn't help the flush that started rising up from his collar to fill his face. He played his piece and swallowed nervously, fiddling with his sleeves as his friends studied him intently. Ron raised an eyebrow at him and then grinned mischievously before asking, "Are you and Malfoy screwing?"
"W-what? No!" Harry stuttered. "T-that's completely ridiculous." He reached out to straighten one of the pieces already on the board and ended up knocking it and several others off to the side instead. Harry fumbled with them, hastily sliding them back into their correct places. His ears were absolutely burning as he actively avoided meeting both Ron and Hermione's searching gazes.
"I'm sure Ron has just come to the same logical conclusion as I, Harry," Hermione commented, her attention once again returning to the paragraph she had been working through.
Both Ron and Harry whipped their heads around in her direction. "Wait, I was joking, are you serious? You aren't actually, right?" Ron wheezed, eyes shifting rapidly between Harry and Hermione as he leaned forwards in disbelief.
"No!" Harry shouted. He drew the attention of the rest of the common room and immediately shrunk in on himself. "No!" he hissed again, this time much quieter, and then he wrapped his arms around himself and stared at his friends hesitantly.
Hermione sighed, and she closed her book and then steepled her fingers atop it. "Oh honestly Harry. Apart from the way you are absolutely glowing, it hasn't escaped my notice that he's suddenly Draco, when two weeks ago today it was Malfoy. Something has clearly changed."
"We sorted some things out, that's all," Harry muttered.
"He gave you an owl, Harry."
"It doesn't mean anything!" Harry insisted. "It was just…just a gift."
"You flush every time you speak of him," Hermione added, and before Harry could attempt to argue she continued, "And when his name comes up in conversation you go all starry eyed and disappear into your head." Harry huffed in disbelief, glancing briefly at Ron only to find him deep in concentration, hanging on to Hermione's every word. "And today at lunch, you were grinning like an absolute loon just watching him from across the hall."
Harry exhaled and sat back, leaning heavily against his chair backrest. Ron was completely gaping at him, while Harry sucked in his lower lip and tried to steady his breathing. Ron glanced to the side and then leaned even closer, covering his face slightly as he whispered, "Do you…like him?"
The question threw Harry off balance, and he sat there blankly while his fingers squeezed around the edges of his elbows. He recalled the feeling of flying side by side with Draco, how he'd never felt more alive than in that moment. The way Draco looked when he was overcome with laughter, or working intently on the potion. The occasional gentle touch. A newfound softness in his eyes. The way it had felt when Draco's fingers rubbed lightly against his wrist in the cellar, or the feeling in his chest when Draco was atop him in the snow. He wondered what it might have been like had Draco leaned down further and pressed their lips together. Harry let out a strangled breath and felt his cheeks warm further.
"Maybe," he muttered. Ron's jaw dropped, and Harry sat up and waved his hands frantically. "It's not like it matters! He doesn't like me like that anyway."
"Yes he does," Hermione claimed. Both Harry and Ron looked at her, one in horror, the other disbelief. "He does, Harry. Can't take is eyes off of you." Ron's eyes widened while Harry opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "It's a bit…ironic, really," Hermione added, and she tapped her fingers atop her book rhythmically. "If I didn't detest divination so much I'd even say it was…destiny."
Harry suddenly felt a bit dizzy, and he gripped at the armrests of his chair in an attempt to steady himself. That strange feeling had returned, the odd tingling sensation in his chest, and he clutched at the front of his sweater and blinked several times while his breaths came out a bit quicker than normal.
It was then that Ginny shuffled into the common room, tossing her supplies on the ground beside Harry's chair haphazardly. She walked over to Hermione and leaned over one of the armrests casually, before taking in the unusual energy in the room and asking, "What are we talking about?"
Hermione sighed, and waved her hand lazily. "Just the way Harry's gone absolutely head over heels for Malfoy," she commented.
Ginny laughed lightly and crossed her legs leisurely. "Oh, that's so yesterday's news, I've known for ages."
"What?!" Harry and Ron shouted in tandem.
Draco stretched out his back muscles before he began setting up his chess pieces across from Blaise. The two of them worked to set the board with ease, after having played hundreds of games with the exact same beginning. It was one of the things Draco liked so much about Wizard's Chess. No matter how many times he set the board, with the pieces standing in their designated spots, at the end, there was always a completely different result. He loved how much variation could be found from such a seemingly simple arrangement. Hundreds of unpredictable moves, entirely dependent on the responses and reactions between himself and his opponent. Like a dance of sorts, not so dissimilar from a duel. It kept him on his toes.
They had just finished preparing when Ron Weasley came to a stop at the side of their table, staring down at Blaise like he was about to set the entire room on fire. Blaise glanced up at him briefly and then stared at him warily after catching sight of his intense frown. "Switch partners with me Zabini," Ron demanded.
"Huh?"
"Just do it!" Ron shouted, and Blaise threw his arms up in front of himself and grimaced.
"Okay, Okay," Blaise muttered, and then he moved to grab his bag and stood quickly. Draco watched Blaise walk away in confusion, and then stared at Ron as he sat down across from him with a scowl. Why the heck would Weasley want to play with him? He stared at him blankly, only awakening from his stupor when Ron whipped his wand out, holding it across the board. Draco stared him down, then followed suit, and he watched as the ends of their wands switched between colours, finally stalling and denoting who would play first.
The board rotated, and then the game began as Ron spoke almost instantly. "Bishop to d4."
"Knight to f6," Draco responded just as quickly.
It was a rush of turns after that, quickly becoming the fastest rapid Wizard's Chess that Draco had ever played. Their pieces battled atop the board, swords clashing into stone as bishops and knights were captured. It was among the most challenging matches Draco had ever experienced. Ron's skill was unparalleled. Draco held his own for as long as he could, but eventually Ron backed his King into a corner and he nodded his head in resignation.
Ron stared at the board for a long time after, and then he sat back and let out a relieved sigh. "It was a good match," Ron admitted.
Draco eyed him for a moment before leaning forward and gesturing at the remains on the board. "Hmm…I made a mistake moving my rook here. You had the win guaranteed from that point on," Draco commented. Ron nodded idly while Draco considered the other paths he might have taken instead. Their gazes shifted up, and they stared at each other in a considering way. Ron blinked at him and then pursed his lips, folding his arms across his chest as he raised his jaw.
"Don't you dare hurt him Malfoy," Ron spoke, his outward appearance deceptively calm. Draco startled, narrowing his eyes as he studied Ron carefully. It didn't feel like a threat. But rather as though Ron was pleading with him. Draco had never heard such a tone from him before, and he shifted awkwardly and frowned in response. "He's been hurt more than enough, don't you think? Just…that's all I ask. Just don't hurt him." Draco's lips parted slightly and he breathed in, fully understanding what was being asked of him.
He stared down at the broken remains of his pieces, and then sat up straight, looking at Ron directly. "I don't intend to," he promised.
Ron considered him for a moment, and Draco sat still, refusing to wither beneath the intensity of his stare. Eventually Ron nodded, and then he looked back down at the board as he pressed his fingers around his chin appraisingly. "Shall we have a rematch?"
Draco smirked and held his wand out over the board, casting a spell to reassemble the pieces before asking, "Best of three?"
The hands moved rhythmically around the clock on the wall while Harry watched the seconds tick by with unblinking eyes. Draco was bent low beside him, watching the mice in the cage in front of them for any sign of unusual movement. The most recent variation of their potion appeared to be working…so far. Harry bounced his leg up and down nervously, while his fingers tightened in his lap. Was it too much to hope for? That they'd already found a solution? Likely. But still, Harry wanted this, badly, and he wished with every ounce of his being that they might finally be making headway.
There was a jarring rattle, and then Draco sighed, tapping his quill on the parchment below it, and Harry tried not to wilt in disappointment. "Time?" Draco asked urgently.
"Just shy of fifteen minutes, 14:48," Harry replied. He glanced away from the clock finally, noticing the way the mice were beginning to twitch with increasing severity.
"Well, it's an improvement," Draco muttered, and he sat up and flipped through their notes. "I think we were right to use passionflower, and probably cat's claw. I think that dash of cinnamon was the correct choice as well, if for nothing other than improving the smell."
"Mmm," Harry sounded as he nodded along. "Perhaps we should try lavender, or maybe increasing the amount of valerian. I also think it needs an extra two stirs or so," He commented and Draco grinned at him in surprise. He looked almost proud, and Harry ducked his head away shyly. Working with Draco had proved extremely beneficial. He was just as astonished by his drastic improvement over the last few months as anyone.
"Not bad ideas, though increasing valerian is risky, at least without something to counterbalance the toxins," Draco mentioned. The two of them busily scratched down notes, already making plans for their next batch and exactly what changes to make to them. Harry paused when he felt Draco's gaze on him, and looked up into his icy eyes curiously.
"You haven't been sleeping, have you," Draco commented, and Harry's gaze flittered away.
"Is it that obvious?"
It was a silly question. He knew how he looked. The dark circles beneath his eyes were deeply set, the stress lines between his brows ever present. There was a tension in his body, and an uncomfortable nervous jitter. His cheeks had hollowed out too, since he'd thrown up his last few meals. Quite frankly, he looked like he was about ready to keel over at any second. Draco returned to his notes, scratching something down hastily before he asked, "How many seizures have you had this week?"
Harry paused for a moment, trying to count the days. "Ah, ten so far."
Draco whipped his head around, staring at him in disbelief. Harry swallowed and faltered beneath his gaze. He supposed it had only been five days. It was…a lot. At least compared to earlier in the year when multiple in a single day had been a rarity. Harry twirled his quill and then directed the most carefree grin he could muster at Draco, shrugging his shoulders casually. "It's fine, I'm…fine," he insisted.
He was anything but fine, and judging by the way Draco's grip tightened about his quill, he knew it too.
The lecture for the day was unbearably boring, and Draco blinked his eyes slowly as he struggled to hang on to Professor Smethwyck's words. He usually enjoyed the lectures in the mediwizard course, eager to learn new techniques and advance his existing skills, however, burn treatment just so happened to be a subject he was already quite familiar with.
He shared a glance with Blaise, who looked equally as unenthused. It was perhaps rather advanced spell casting for the average wizard. But neither of them were average, and both of them had elected to learn how to mend burns on their own, before even enrolling in the mediwizard course. Draco's experience in the war had jaded him, in many ways. And for quite some time he had avoided even the mere sight of a live flame. The repeated appearances of Vincent Crabbe in his nightmares, in all his charred glory, certainly hadn't aided in his recovery. It had taken repeated exposure, and intensity of will to fight the fear. Learning how to treat burns had been one stage in the process of healing that mental trauma.
Blaise had learned for other reasons. Reasons that he often opted not to elaborate on, though Draco knew it related to his situation at home. He had the scars to show for it, brands and marks across his back that told the story for him. Draco never asked, he didn't need to. They were good like that. Knew each other's boundaries and never crossed them. Blaise would have already spoken about it if he'd wanted to.
Draco breathed out heavily through his nose, trying not to draw attention to himself as he let his thoughts drift away from the presentation and towards other matters at hand. Like his thesis, which up to this point, was proving quite the challenge. His mind had fully wandered when a loud crash sounded from across the hall. Several screams followed in its wake, and then a shout, in a familiar tone of voice.
"Don't touch him!"
Draco frowned, turning his body to the side, the rest of the class whispering around him as they looked towards the sound of the ruckus.
"I said don't touch him!"
That was…Ron, wasn't it? Before he could even think about it Draco bolted, heaving himself through the heavy classroom doors and rushing across the hall and into the Transfiguration room adjacent to it. The class inside startled, looking up at him in surprise, and Draco searched the interior with frantic eyes. His gaze finally landed on Ron, then moved quickly towards Harry, who was shaking atop the ground, half his body still entangled awkwardly in between the bench and desk. There were several students lingering close by and Draco shoved his way in between them.
"Back off!" he bellowed, his mediwizard training robes flailing about his form. He quickly cast a charm on the floor, softening it beneath Harry to better cushion his body. Then he vanished the bench altogether, allowing Harry's legs to fall flat atop the ground. The seizure continued, and Draco kept everyone away, watching Harry carefully until his limbs finally became motionless. He fell unconscious after, and Draco rushed to his side before opening his airway and checking his pulse and vitals with care.
"Is he okay?" Ron asked, stepping tentatively closer, and Draco waved him off for a moment while he inspected everything further. Harry was drenched in sweat, and slight tremors ran through his hands when Draco lifted each to inspect. He was covered in scrapes from the wooden bench, and Draco could tell there would be swelling and bruises to follow. It had been a bad one. But he didn't appear to have any serious injuries at first glance.
"He'll be okay, but I'll take him to Pomfrey just to be sure," Draco reassured Ron, and then without wasting time Draco levitated Harry's body, guiding him out through the classroom doors and towards the Hospital Wing.
There were a few other patients in the ward upon his arrival and Madame Pomfrey greeted Draco curtly before hurrying to direct Harry's floating body towards a vacant bed. Draco quickly explained what happened, then watched her work in silence, and though he was outwardly calm, he couldn't help but worry. He shoved his sleeves up and crossed his arms anxiously, watching as Madame Pomfrey made quick work of diagnostics. He remained tense for the entire duration, only relaxing slightly once she backed away and confirmed that Harry's vitals were stable.
"You'll make a good healer Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey commented, somehow managing to stare down at Draco from her shorter stature. The compliment surprised him. It was the first time someone had said as much. Up to that point even his training robes had felt like a heavy weight upon his shoulders. Uncomfortable, as if he did not deserve to wear them. He shifted awkwardly and nodded in thanks, leaning slightly against the foot of Harry's bed. Draco glanced down at Harry then, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was a relief to see him sleeping, even under the circumstances. "Can I entrust him to you for a moment while I tend to my other patients?" Madame Pomfrey asked, and at his slight nod she scurried away to the other end of the ward.
Draco tightened his fingers in the blankets after she walked away, and then eased around the side of Harry's bed before pulling up a chair to sit down. He stared at Harry's face worriedly. Studied the almost sickly tint to his skin, the thinness in his face. He didn't think he'd ever seen Harry looking quite so…haggard. Even at the end of the war, when he'd thought him dead, there'd been more life in his limp form. Draco reached out and gently brushed away the stray strands of hair settled across Harry's brow, suddenly noticing that his glasses were missing. He frowned and searched his memory, but couldn't recall seeing them anywhere. He'd been so focused on getting him to the hospital wing. Hopefully Ron had them.
His fingers tapped against the mattress anxiously, and he scowled and clasped them together in frustration. Pansy would have thoroughly mocked him for acting so transparent with his feelings. She'd been right. He was wearing his emotions on his sleeves. But how couldn't he? Hadn't his heart always been captivated by Harry? He'd spent so many years trying to contain it. To act a certain way, present himself in a certain manner. But Harry had always drawn him free of that feeble shell. Was it any wonder that it was beginning to crack for good, after…everything. He was a fool to think he could continue to hide it.
Draco's hand slid down his forearm, rubbing over the remnants of the dark mark beneath his robes absently. He remembered Harry's touch against his skin. A light, tentative graze of fingertips. His words laced with honesty, and a stubborn insistence that only a Gryffindor could possess. Draco smiled unconsciously, and then masked it the moment he took note. The very least he could do was refrain from acting like a besotted fool in a public space. He took a deep breath and hunched forwards in his chair, looking once more upon Harry's face, fixating on his slightly parted lips. Draco's eyes narrowed. He wanted to do something reckless. But a Slytherin bided their time. Acted carefully. Cunningly. Taking action only when the moment was right. And he'd almost impulsively ruined it once before.
This time, he could wait.
Until he was absolutely sure.
There had been fleeting glances, flushed skin, and gentle touches. And Draco sometimes caught Harry staring, and then he would look away shyly when discovered and nibble away on his lower lip until the deep red colour all but left it. He spent more time with Draco, outside of classes, not just studying, but playing games and going for walks through the grounds. Sometimes simply asking Draco how his day was and sitting silently nearby while Draco worked on his assignments. All things that Draco took as signs. That Harry might actually return his feelings.
But Harry was also inherently kind and caring, always there for his friends. Endearingly good, and somewhat touchy, as though he'd been starved of affection and was making up for lost time. Draco didn't think that's all this was, but he couldn't be certain. No matter how much Pansy insisted. Not just yet.
And he absolutely refused to lose this, whatever it was, now that he had it.
His musings were interrupted when Harry stirred, and Draco stood in a rush, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste. Harry let out a strangled groan as he fought against the blankets and Draco pressed down on his shoulder, gently holding him in place. "Shh, relax, just stay put for a moment," Draco urged, and he watched as Harry blinked up at him wearily before the tension released in his form.
Harry squinted his eyes, looking at Draco's robes through obviously blurred vision, and then croaked, "You missed your class because of me, didn't you."
"Don't worry. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will put in a good word for me," Draco commented.
Harry sighed and shifted, closing his eyes as he muttered, "Second one today."
Draco glanced warily at the clock on the wall. It wasn't even noon yet. He tried not to worry too much about it and asked, "Does anything hurt? Aside from the usual?"
Harry's slight head shake was unconvincing, and sure enough, when Draco reached out and touched his arm, Harry winced and yanked it away. Draco frowned and grabbed it back, pushing away the loose shirt sleeves to better check the bruising lining his elbow. Draco scoffed at the sight of it, and then hurriedly checked along his hip and ankle, both of which had hit the table and bench in the midst of Harry's seizure. There were plenty of bruises, along with some swelling, and the odd cut that Draco quickly mended with whispered spells. "You hurt yourself quite a lot before I got there. But…no breaks, thankfully," Draco mentioned as he rolled Harry's sock back up his ankle.
He hastened a glance at Harry and faltered at the sight of him. He was staring blankly up at the ceiling, eyes shining with unshed tears. The muscles in his throat shifted, like he was holding them back with all his might. "Har-,"
"I just want them to stop," Harry choked out, and his breath hitched as he blinked his eyes quickly. It didn't much help, and a moment later Harry's face crumpled and he lifted his arm and tucked his face into his elbow.
"I know," Draco whispered. He walked back towards the head of the bed and touched Harry's shoulder softly. "We're almost there with the potion."
Harry laughed through gritted teeth then spat, "Fifteen minutes. Even if it's longer lasting it's not like I can take twenty a day, or enough to get through a night." He sniffled and wiped at his eyes aggressively before continuing. "Sorry, I know it's not your fault."
"It's okay, I understand."
Harry dragged his hands down his face, running his fingertips along the under edge of his lashes. His arms fell to the bedding lifelessly after, and he turned his head slightly, eyeing Draco with shiny eyes. Without his glasses, the green of his irises was startling, and Draco latched on to the sight. It was difficult to keep himself from drowning in them.
"I'm tired," Harry muttered lowly. His fingers clenched atop the bedding and Draco hurriedly grasped them in his own. Harry's hand tightened in his grip, a gentle reassuring squeeze, and Draco didn't let go.
Eventually Harry's eyelids started to droop, and Draco muttered a quiet, "Sleep." It took mere seconds for Harry to doze off. Draco latched on to him even well after his fingers loosened their hold, standing at his side resolutely. He needed to fix this. No matter how long it took.
Thursday evening, just after supper but before closing hours, was the best time to visit the Hogwarts library. At least as far as Hermione was concerned. It was always dead quiet. Not another soul in sight. And though the library could usually be relied upon to be one of the least rowdy places in the castle, the presence of other students inevitably caused a certain amount of distraction. Hushed whispers at other tables quickly became grating to her ears. The turning of other pages, which she typically loved the sound of, became unsettling, often urging her to rush her own reading. And though, there was something to be said for studying in a group, and bouncing ideas off each other while creatively problem solving as a team, she much preferred to first learn alone, under the low light of the lanterns and with nothing but the sound of her own quill scratching atop parchment.
She walked beyond the empty aisles filled with books, heading towards the section on Ancient Runes. She was so determined to get to work that she nearly missed a slight movement at one of the tables in the healing section entirely. Hermione staggered, stepping backwards once to peer behind the aisle she'd just past, and sure enough, Draco Malfoy sat stooped over a heavy tome, hands gripped tightly in his hair in frustration. He pulled at the blond strands angrily and muttered something under his breath before shoving the book away from him with a scowl. His hair was sticking up every which way, and his tie had been loosened messily around his neck. She'd never seen him looking quite so out of sorts. Hermione took another step back and twisted to the side, walking towards the table slowly.
"Malfoy? Is…everything alright?" she asked.
He spared her a quick glance, and then rolled his eyes. "Just wonderful."
"What is it you're working on?"
"My thesis," he answered coolly. "For the mediwizard certification."
"Oh? Not going well I take it."
She wasn't sure the reaction she expected, but it certainly wasn't for him to grit his teeth and then slap his hands angrily on the table. He stared down at it for a moment and then pushed his body away, leaning his chair back into the shelving behind him recklessly. "It's just this stupid scan," he growled. And then he ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit Hermione had noticed Draco possessed. "It wouldn't be so damn frustrating if anyone in the past millennia had attempted to improve upon it. But there's no information. It feels like I'm working from scratch, and I can't figure out what's missing."
"A scan? Like a medical scan?" Hermione asked curiously. She walked around the table and hazarded a glance at his research. Most of it contained diagrams for spell casting she was unfamiliar with, theories about word structure and hand movements that she couldn't make sense of without reading more about the intent.
"Yes," he stated, and then he let the chair fall back towards the ground and pushed his sleeves hastily up his arms. "I'm trying to come up with a more advanced reading, something that could actually help with detection of dark magic residue in the human body, as well as the distinct makeup of that residue." He looked down at his notes and then pushed a few papers aside, revealing a list of several results based on prior attempts. "The spell detection works separate from the scan, on objects, and magical items. But once I combine it with the scan, it's just…impossible to see. For some reason, it won't detect anything on living things beyond surface maladies," he ranted. Then he sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
Hermione stared at Draco's notes, and then glanced towards his face before looking back down at the parchment once again. Interesting, very interesting. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Harry, would it?"
Draco let out a strange strangled sound, and then coughed loudly to cover it up. "Don't know what you're talking about Granger," he muttered, before lifting his book up on the table and hiding behind it. Hermione could see the red on the tips of his ears and back of his neck, and she smiled slightly and snorted.
She glanced at the time. There were still two hours left before the library closed, and she could probably talk Madame Pince into letting her stay late that night. She nodded to herself in affirmation and then set her things down on the table across from Draco.
"Perhaps a second pair of eyes," she suggested, and then without waiting for Draco to agree, she pulled out a chair and started perusing his notes in more detail.
Harry tossed a rolled up sock at Ron's head and laughed when his friend squeaked and nearly fell into one of his bed's posts. Ron gaped at him, and then he sighed when he realized the fuzzy thing attacking him wasn't a spider. "Har-ry," he droned, and then picked sock up off the ground before whipping it back at Harry's grinning face. Harry caught it easily, but slumped afterwards and flopped back onto his mattress wearily.
It was still early in the evening yet, but by mid-week he was always exhausted. He didn't get much sleep at the best of times. But when he had to get up for early morning lessons, it was that much worse. Plus he was averaging two or three seizures a day at this point. The strain on his body was greater than he cared to admit. He sighed and reached lazily over to the table at the edge of his bed to grab his wand. He had just started the incantations for his silencing spells when Hermione burst into the dorm, frizzy hair flailing out behind her wildly.
"Harry!" she shouted, and he froze, staring at her with wide eyes.
Ron jumped up onto his bed, pulling the hanging drapes around himself as he peered at her frightfully. He relaxed when he figured out who it was, and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How did you get up here?"
Hermione waved him off, stepping quickly into the room. She had several heavy books in her arms, and she fumbled them as she hurried to Harry's bed. She leaned over him with frantic eyes. "Where's Malfoy," she demanded, her voice laced with urgency. He lifted his head off the pillow slightly and propped his body up on an elbow.
"How should I know?"
"I need to speak with him," she insisted. "It's important. I think I've figured out a way to get his med scan to work."
Harry stared up at her in confusion, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of things. Since when had Hermione and Draco been working together on an assignment? "What…," he trailed off, and she gaped at him in surprise.
"He didn't tell you?" she hissed, and Harry just stared at her blankly. "It's his thesis, Harry, to become a mediwizard," she stressed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked at her vacantly as she huffed and shook her head. "It's quite the endeavour, honestly. A newly developed medical scan that can detect lingering traces of dark magic. To better pursue cures for witches and wizards suffering from the after effects of curses and hexes."
Harry's gaze dropped while he processed the words. A medical scan? Why would he…
"He's even been testing it on himself, on his…mark. Had a few mishaps by the look of it," she commented. Her gaze slid to the side and she pursed her lips tightly. "Irresponsible, but…I have to respect his determination. He's already managed to find a safe and reliable spell structure."
Oh. Was Draco…having problems with the mark? Perhaps a lingering pain? He'd never mentioned anything, but it wasn't an unrealistic possibility. Not considering Harry's own difficulties with his scar. He furrowed his brow at the thought. He wished he had known. He'd never even thought to ask, and he felt sad for it, like he'd been selfishly considering only his own struggles with such things.
"I can't believe he didn't tell you. He's doing it for you, after all," she claimed.
Wait. What?
Harry looked back up at her in disbelief. He opened his mouth to protest and then shut it just as quickly. A memory suddenly resurfaced. Of the two of them, in Malfoy Manor, when Draco had scanned him and then gotten that weird look on his face. The same sort of look that Hermione often had whenever she was struck with a brilliant idea. Had it been…about this?
Harry sat up quickly, gripping the nearest bedpost to grant himself some stability. He was feeling terribly off balance. A bit dizzy, if he was honest. Draco was…trying to create a new scan? One that would help countless witches and wizards…if it worked. But Hermione had said Draco was doing it for him. He took a shaky breath and tightened his fingers.
"I can get my map."
"Ouch!" Hermione snapped, elbowing Ron in the side fiercely after he stepped on her foot for the millionth time.
"Oof! C'mon 'Mione, I didn't mean to!" he moaned, knocking into Harry as the three of them stumbled across the grass beneath Harry's cloak. Harry fumbled the stack of books in his arms, struggling to hold on to them as they walked quickly across the grounds. It wasn't quite curfew, but it was getting close, and they didn't want to risk being seen heading out and not coming back. It wasn't perfect though, their feet visible as they shuffled along. They weren't as small as they used to be, and hiding three bodies, and a massive pile of tomes beneath a single cloak was no easy task.
Hermione held her wand over the Marauder's Map, bending close to track Draco's name on the parchment. It had finally stopped moving, and she frowned as they made their way closer.
"He's in the Quidditch showers? What's he doing there at this hour?" she wondered.
"Oh I don't know. Could it be that he's…having a shower?" Ron snapped. He hadn't been particularly keen on tracking down Draco, but he wasn't going to let Harry and Hermione go alone.
Hermione nudged Ron again, giving him a disgruntled look as she hissed, "Hush," and then the three of them eased into the boy's changing rooms. A quick peek inside revealed no one was there, and Hermione whispered, "Come on," before leading them towards the sound of running water. Sure enough, one of the curtains was pulled across a shower, and beneath it two feet could be seen atop the tiles. She stuck her head out from the cloak, and Harry and Ron both followed suit, watching as Draco's shadow shifted behind the curtain. He shut off the water and reached a hand out for a towel.
A second later the curtain shifted. Draco had just stepped free of the shower when his gaze met them and he screamed. He pulled the curtain around himself and summoned his wand to his grasping fingers, pointing it at their floating heads. He stood there, shaking for a moment before he slumped against the side of the shower frame. "Bloody hell!" Draco gasped. "What the actual fuck!"
He stood there gaping at the three of them, and Hermione pulled the cloak away from their bodies sheepishly. Ron turned away, placing his hands on his hips as he stared determinedly down at the floor, while Harry stood half behind Hermione, shamelessly taking in the sight of Draco's half naked and dripping form. He was largely hidden by the curtain now, but Harry had still caught a brief glimpse of him in nothing but his towel. All long toned muscles that made Harry flush from head to toe.
"Are you completely mad! You scared me half to death!" Draco shouted. Then he lowered his wand shakily. "I almost cursed you!"
"I've figured it out!" Hermione claimed.
"Figured what out? Also is this not the men's…?"
"That's not important right now!" Hermione argued, and then she turned and yanked the books out of a flustered Harry's arms. "I think I've found something that could be helpful, for your scan."
Draco eyed her, gaze shifting towards Harry for a moment. He sighed, and his expression softened slightly, and Hermione was about to interrupt his obvious pining when he waved his hand and muttered, "Alright…at least let me get dressed."
Ten minutes later and the three of them were sitting on the centre bench in the change room while Hermione flipped through pages in a book on her lap. Harry leaned over, looking down at the book for a moment, and then peered beyond Hermione to where Draco sat on her other side, waiting rather impatiently. His hair looked good freshly towel dried, hanging wetly on either side of his face. Harry was somewhat entranced as he watched the rivulets slide down his jaw and neck, into the lush sweater draped over his shoulders. He fidgeted slightly, and looked away when Draco's grey eyes suddenly focused on him searchingly.
"You've been trying to figure out why magic residue isn't showing up on your scans, but what if, that's not really the problem at all," Hermione started, drawing Draco's attention back towards her.
"What do you mean?"
"A magical medical scan is really similar to a muggle x-ray. It shows us bones, and more surface type injuries in soft tissue. Where breaks and sprains are. Things like that," Hermione explained. "But what if dark magic isn't detectable in a surface scan, because that's not typically what it clings to. What if it's because magic residue lingers in the brain, in the nervous system, things a regular med scan already has difficulty picking up." Draco narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms while she waved her hands in front of her body excitedly. "And I got to thinking, what's the difference between an x-ray and an MRI?"
"You realise I have no idea what you're talking about…,"
"Magnets and radio waves, Malfoy!" Hermione stared at him, grinning wildly while he frowned in return. "You likely already have the proper technique and spell structure to make the scan work, to detect magic residue, you're just missing the proper additions to properly read the right part of the body!"
Draco shifted atop the bench and she pushed a book into his lap, forcing him to hold on to it while she pointed out various pages she'd marked with coloured slips of paper. "There are already several basic spells that make use of magnetism and sound waves in a more magical means. You just wouldn't think to combine them with a med scan. But based on the work you've already done, I'm sure you'll have no problem managing it."
He stared at the page blankly, and Hermione laughed, grabbing a different book from the pile between her legs and exchanging it with the one in his lap. "Here, let me teach you so you better understand."
She spent the next hour or so showing Draco various muggle texts, explaining how the scans worked and the differences between them. He seemed intrigued as he learned about muggle science, and somewhat surprised at the overlap in techniques, just achieved through different means. Where muggles relied on their technology to create the necessary results, wizards and witches used spells to do the same, though in a much more refined and effective way, in his opinion.
"You might be on to something here Granger," Draco commented, after he'd grasped the basic theories needed. He rubbed at his chin, already beginning to think of ways he could add to his existing spell.
"I've made a list of spells that could be altered and combined with your scan. The actual breakdown of spell structure is a bit beyond me though, I'll leave that up to you," Hermione said, and she pulled a piece of folded parchment from her pocket and handed it to him. Draco stood, perusing each spell carefully, nodding occasionally and other times waving his wand to remove something from the list. He started modifying and integrating the spells immediately after, and Harry and Ron watched him, feeling somewhat mystified, while Hermione chatted excitedly whenever something combined in a seamless way. It was very complex work. But work that Draco clearly excelled at.
Draco worked well into the night. And by the time the early hours of the morning neared, Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all found various benches to nap on. They snoozed restlessly, shifting on the benches uncomfortably while Draco continued to work determinedly atop the tiles. The floor was a mess of loose papers, and Draco's eyes had begun to go bloodshot from the strain. But he was almost there. Just one more tweak of the wrist, another slight alteration to the incantation. He waved his hand and shouted triumphantly when a soft glow emanated from the tip of his wand. It dissipated immediately without a target, but the feeling was there. Finally, a successful spell. He started laughing then, holding his hands out in front of his body in wonder.
"What, what is it?" Hermione stammered, slipping off her bench as she hurried over, and Harry rubbed at his eyes and put his glasses on, blinking at them sluggishly. He nudged Ron harshly, until his snores halted and he woke with a start.
"I think I've got it!" Draco said, his voice laced with delight.
"Really?" she gasped, and he nodded eagerly, and laughed some more, casting the spell in the air so that Hermione could see his wand formations. It was easier the second time and he did it again, just to familiarize himself with it even more.
"I'll need to test it properly to be sure," he mentioned.
Harry padded over, tripping slightly on the cloak he'd left pooled beside his chosen bench. "You can try it on me," he suggested, sitting cross legged across from Draco on the floor.
"What? Now? That's a ridiculous idea," Draco said, slowly lowering his arms as he stared at Harry in horror.
"Why?"
Draco let out a laugh of disbelief and then tilted his head pointedly. "It might not be safe, it's completely unrefined, and we aren't in a proper testing area. For all I know it could blow up in your face the first time I cast it on a human."
"The room of requirement," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders as he grinned at Draco lopsidedly. "It's not barricaded anymore, right?"
Draco shook his head and then crossed his arms before ranting, "You're missing the most important bit. It's still a theory, I can't…I can't test an unused spell on you when I have no idea what it will do!"
Harry inhaled quickly, suddenly reminded of when he had done just that. His eyes drifted down Draco's chest, to the place he knew must have been covered in deep set scars beneath his sweater. He'd seen glimpses of them, peeking out above his low cut or unbuttoned shirts, even earlier in the showers. Harry breathed in deep and sat up straight, mimicking Draco as he crossed his own arms stubbornly. "Well what else are you going to test it on?"
"I don't know Potter, a cockroach maybe?"
"Yourself, is what you mean," Harry stated, and then he reached out and grabbed Draco's arm, pulling it close to his chest. He pushed up the sleeve of his sweater and stared at the remnants of his dark mark. It was just as before, with the exception of a few additional scars that had clearly been hastily healed. Harry sighed, and touched the skin there gently before looking up into Draco's stunned eyes. "If it's safe enough for you it's safe enough for me," he claimed, and then a moment later added softly, "I trust you."
Draco jerked away from him, but didn't break eye contact, staring at Harry like he'd gone mad. "Why the hell would you trust me," he muttered lowly, and Harry groaned and threw his hands out to his sides.
"I just do!" Harry yelled, and then he slumped and nibbled at his lip, glancing up at Draco with a stubborn pout. "Besides, this is…what you're good at, right? Nuance or something, with spell casting. You…you know what you're doing," he added. Draco opened his mouth and turned away slightly. "And it could help me too, one day," Harry said. He smiled slightly and lowered his gaze to the ground. "Besides, I'm messed up already, there's not much you could do to make it worse."
"Don't say that, you're not…," Draco groaned, and then he gritted his teeth and reached out, lifting Harry's face by his chin. The two of them stared at each other while Draco's fingers left white marks on Harry's skin, and then Draco finally let go and leaned back on his hands. "Bloody Gryffindor."
"Draco, I mean it. I trust you," Harry swore. Draco didn't respond, only ducked his head and closed his eyes while he took a steadying breath.
Hermione sat beside the two of them, looking between them with starry eyes. She made a little squeak, and clasped her hands over her mouth when they both looked at her and flushed in embarrassment. "Oh don't stop on my account," Hermione encouraged.
Draco rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. "All of you really are an idiotic lot," he muttered.
"For the record I'm not okay with this eith-oof!"
"Shut up Ron," Hermione hissed, reaching back to slap his leg where he stood behind her.
Draco dragged his hands down his face and hunched forwards. He pressed his fingers into his temples, taking a moment to think, finally blurting, "Fine, let's go," and Harry beamed and shot to his feet, dragging Draco up off the ground immediately after.
The group of them hurried to clean up the changing room, and then hobbled across the grounds beneath Harry's cloak, looking even more foolish with four sets of legs peeking out from beneath the fabric than they did with three. It was a miracle that they made it to the seventh floor undetected. They teetered from side to side in front of the entrance to the Room of Requirement, all hoping for the same thing. A safe environment, suitable for casting Draco's spell.
The doorway appeared, and they entered the Room of Requirement slowly, taking in the largely empty space curiously. It was well equipped for their needs, with a few comfy chairs, and even a medical bed and shelving unit with supplies should they need them. Draco directed Harry to one of the chairs, staring down at him a bit uneasily after he was seated. "Take your glasses off, just in case," he mentioned, and Harry passed them to Hermione before looking up at him patiently.
Draco sighed, glancing down towards his feet nervously, and Harry was surprised by how stressed he appeared to be. Even without his glasses he could make out the tense lines of his shoulders, the tentative way he held on to his wand. Draco was usually fairly at ease with spell casting, always one of the first in the class to boldly wave his wand and speak a new incantation. In duels he was much the same. Reacting quickly, with precise movements and plenty of confidence in his abilities. It was odd to see him looking so unsure.
"Is it really that much more difficult than a regular scan?" Harry asked.
There was a long pause, and Harry couldn't see Draco's expression to properly judge what might be bothering him. Eventually Draco stepped up to the chair, standing just in front of Harry. "It's a significantly more complex spell. But it's not just that it's more complex. It's also…new, and crafted around theories. Which means it's not yet perfected. That's the true risk," Draco explained. "I…," he faltered for a moment, head shifting to glance towards where Ron and Hermione lingered behind a protective barrier. "I just don't want to hurt you," he admitted quietly, and Harry swallowed at the sincerity in his voice, fingers tightening in his lap.
Draco placed his hands on either side of Harry's head, straightening it and lifting his jaw slightly into position before asking, "Are you sure about this?" Harry didn't nod, but he hummed his approval, and Draco lifted his hands, took a deep breath, and started to cast.
Harry could see light coming from Draco's wand, leaving a trail of intricate shapes in its wake as he muttered unfamiliar words under his breath. The light surrounded Harry's head in a sphere, circling about him for a moment before it fizzled away into nothing with a soft hiss. Draco cursed and shook out his arms. "Ah, I need to tweak the wand formation, it's straining," he gasped. Then he bent low and looked into Harry's eyes in concern. "Sorry, did that hurt?"
Harry shook his head, and Draco's posture relaxed slightly. He took a steadying breath and tried again. This time the light brightened, swirling quickly, and Harry watched as it took shape and pulled itself free of his body to swirl in the air between them. Draco let out a strange laugh, holding his spell steady as he stared at the visible scan.
"Did it work?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing as he struggled to see what exactly it was showing. Hermione rushed closer and Ron approached slowly, all while Draco rotated the swirling light without saying a word. Harry frowned and summoned his glasses, sliding them on his face as he blinked up at the scan hovering in the air. It really had worked, and through the transparent scan Harry could see Draco's awestruck expression. The image flickered occasionally, clearly difficult to hold for lengthy periods of time, and Draco's mouth closed as he determinedly expanded various parts to look at them in more detail.
"Wow, look at that," Hermione breathed, and Harry realized they were studying a section of his brain. "This is incredible!"
But Harry wasn't sure he would call it that. There were prominent areas of darkness, the magical residue very apparent in the scan. He could see different colours of magic swirling throughout his head, and right at the centre of it all, a dark patch, like a black hole, circling ominously as it swelled and shrunk in size rhythmically. Harry stared at it with wide eyes. It was exactly what he'd feared. The trace left behind from Voldemort that he had known was there all along. Only now it stared right back at him for the first time. Impossible to ignore. There were little trails of darkness that occasionally shot outwards, moving along his nerves and down into his spine like tiny Dementors. Every so often runes glistened from within the dark tendrils, and Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it. All he knew, was that he hated the sight of it.
"I can't believe…I can't believe it actually worked," Draco muttered in disbelief. Ron reached out a finger to touch one of the ghostlike shapes curiously, but Hermione swatted his hand away before he could, chastising him lightly while Draco focused intensely on his work.
"If we can see this…breakdown of the dark magic, it must be possible to find a counter curse. There are so many possibilities," Hermione said, and Draco nodded eagerly.
He tilted his head, clearly already thinking about how to proceed with his research, and stated, "I need to find a way to enhance this further. To make those runes easier to read."
Harry sat limply while his friends huddled around the scan, clearly overwhelmed and excited by the results. He hardly heard what they discussed, his hazy gaze glued to the darkness looming inside his head. There was no way that was fixable. No matter what theories they had. How could it be? He wondered if it was growing in size. If before the year ended, that darkness might encompass his entire mind. He felt the first tears well up in his eyes as the spell suddenly fizzled away.
"Shit, it's too hard to hold," Draco sighed, and he stood up and dropped his arms wearily, but grinned despite the strain on his magic.
"I bet little alterations to the wand technique will make a big difference," Hermione mentioned, clasping her fingers together as she paced back and forth excitedly.
"You're right. I might modify the incantation slightly as well. I'll keep working on it," Draco said. He sighed in relief, turning to look at Harry, finally catching his watery gaze. The grin slipped from Draco's face immediately, and he stepped towards him worriedly. Draco helped Harry to stand, and then wiped away the tear tracks running down his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "Harry?"
Harry blinked himself from his daze, suddenly feeling like he would be sick. He couldn't…he couldn't stay there. He couldn't pretend like everything was fine when it so clearly wasn't. His head was filled with darkness. His worst fears had been confirmed. He felt a chill run down his spine. Harry choked on a sob, and he bolted, wrenching himself away from Draco before storming out the doorway and running into the halls.
"Harry!"
AN: Thank you for reading! I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter!